


Give Me Love

by Lynxphilia



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, I just went with it, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynxphilia/pseuds/Lynxphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little Renaissance Tom for you...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Love

You had met at a party, a party of his coronation, of his crowning as prince and heir to the throne.

You’d seen him many times before, of course; passing each other at the market, once in your fathers’ forge, twice more in your mothers’ textile mill. He seemed interested in you, but why would he? He was a prince, a crowned prince who had a choice of dames and lads as far east as the Winter Winds and as far west as the Fire Desert.

 You were proved wrong when your family was invited to his private ceremony and after celebration, you dressed in your most comfortable dress; a cotton dress of your favourite colour that slightly dragged behind you as you walked, the sleeves were a length in which you felt most comfortable and the dip where most women would show off their breasts, was only a few centimeters below your collar bones, your hair was put up by your mother in the way she knew you most favoured. At first your mother had asked why you refused to wear revealing clothing, you simply replied that ‘If the Prince has an inkling for me, to which I doubt to the highest amount, then he will accept me for me and not my body.’ She had smiled fondly at you and placed a kiss upon your forehead, afterwards you headed to the ceremony.

Your family was placed a few rows behind the royal extended family, Prince Hemsworth of the Northern Peaks, as well as  _his_  royal family, attended as well. Prince Hiddleston would glance at you throughout the ceremony, he would take in the details of your soft lips, the gentle curve of your ear, the defined line of your jaw, then as you would look to him he would avoid your gaze.

The after celebration was by far one of the most horrible and degrading nights of your life, of course that was true until you were pulled away by the Prince himself.

Your mother and father had decided to return home and left you alone at the celebration, you begged them to stay but they replied with the same answer each time. You stood alone in a secluded corner of the ballroom while sipping away at a goblet of light vodka, the drink sent jolts through you every time it went down your throat. You had been asked by many a duke, stable boy, baker, miner, and smithy to partake in dancing ; though you had turned them all down. You didn’t know what you were waiting for but you wanted to stay and live off of everyone else’s joy and happiness. The sight of laughter and joy made your heart swell; things had never been this joyous since before the War. You began to tap your foot in time with the beat of fiddles when a rather drunk lad came staggering toward you.

‘Care for a dance, love?’ he asked,

 

‘No thank you, I have an engagement.’

 

‘With whom? I’ve seen you standing here since before the coronation ended!’ He laughed when one of his mates came up next to him.

 

‘What d’ we have ‘ere?’ the second slurred,

 

‘Excuse me, gentlemen.’ You nodded and begun to walk away when the first came up behind you and whispered in your ear.

 

‘Come to me chambers and I can show ye how ‘gentle’ I am.’ He chuckled, you turned and splashed the remaining liquid in your goblet at him.

 

‘I am not one of your whores.’ You growled at the two men, pieces of filth more like.

 

‘I don’t think that’s for ye to decide, you mewling quim.’ The first snarled, you began to walk away when one grabbed you by the throat and held a knife to your back. ‘Wha’ do ye say, Sam? Shall we take this one to our quarters?’ He laughed,

 

‘And teach ‘er some manners as well!’ You began to struggle in his grip as a pair of hands started undoing the laces of your dress. You made to cry out but another hand covered your mouth, you looked around frantically but the men had pulled you further into the corner; almost onto the terrace and no one could see you. Your dress had begun to fall around your shoulders and the knife once held to your back was now gliding across your shoulder, leaving small trails of crimson.

 

‘She pretty, ain’t she?’ The other man nodded and you shut your eyes as filthy hands begun to slip under your old corset, you jerked away as one man trailed his hands even further south.

 

‘Stop.’ The voice was so sharp and angry, you didn’t dare look up, instead keeping your head down and eyes closed.

 

‘My Prince.’ The two men dropped to their knees and left you to kneel, holding your dress as close to your body as you could. Your hands shook and knuckles turned white, you sobbed freely and crumpled to the ground.

 

‘Why have you done this?’ The Prince asked.

 

‘W-We were merely-‘

 

‘Why have you done this!?’ He yelled, you flinched at the noise and tried to close yourself into a ball.

 

‘We apologize, your Majesty.’

 

‘You know what happens to those who do not listen to a woman’s request, do you not?’ There was a moment’s silence, then came the small reply;

 

‘Yes, your Majesty.’

 

‘Guards, take these two…filth…to the dungeon. I shall see fit of their punishment on the morrow.’

 

‘Of course, your Majesty.’ The two men were taken away and you were left with the Prince- of all people the Prince!

 

‘Y/N?’ He asked, you didn’t look up but instead trying to cover more of your exposed flesh. ‘Y/N, please, look at me.’ His voice was soft and delicate, much different than earlier. You turned your head away from him and continued to sob. ‘Y/N, we cannot stay here. Please come with me, I will carry you if I must.’ The tone in which he spoke shocked you, he was always so sure spoken but now he seemed as if he was confused.

 

‘I-I do n-not wish to b-be seen like this…in your presence…your Majesty.’ He sighed and gently placed his hand over yours,

 

‘I care not, please let me care for you.’ You looked up at him, he seemed forlorn and angry. You sobbed and grasped his hand in yours, he pulled you to him and stroked your hair until your sobbing ceased. ‘Come now, let us return to my quarters…unless, of course, you prefer the healers?’ You shook your head and gripped him tighter, ‘Alright, let me cover you.’ He removed his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders before standing and carrying you along the terrace and back into the corner where it began. He opened a stone door that seemed to lead into some sort of hidden stairway, ‘These are the private halls, they each lead to a different room in the castle.’ The dark corridor was scarcely lit by soft glowing lanterns and you were sure that he would be lost but he found his way with ease. He carried you up some stairs to a wooden door that lead to his quarters, his room was befitting of a Prince; he had a sitting room with a large burning fire place, there were bookshelves that reached from ceiling to floor, then his private quarters held a large four post bed decorated in plush furs that were most likely worth more than your home. ‘Here, I shall fetch some water and a cloth. Could you remove the fabric off of where…you were cut?’ you nodded and did as he asked, your jaw clenched as you did so. Blood had dried to the fabric and pulling it off made the cut bleed more. The Prince returned with a bowl of hot water, a cloth, and some salve. He gently dabbed your shoulder and you looked away from him as he did so. ‘I am sorry.’ He spoke,

 

‘You have no reason to apologize. It was my fault, entirely.’ You muttered back,

 

‘I should have been there with you, I should have stopped them when I saw you being defensive.’ His voice broke slightly and you looked at him, tears seemed to be welling in his eyes and his lip slightly quivered. You flinched as he dabbed the deepest cut that ran over your left shoulder, he shushed you quietly and gently took your hand into his. His thumb ran over your fingers lightly as he worked, you took this moment to study the contours of his face. His jaw was strong and sturdy, clenched tightly in anger or sorrow you did not know, his eye brows slightly creased in the centre, his nose longer than most but no less attractive, he had several small freckles on his cheek and near his ears, stray strands of hair fell onto his forehead and some curled around the nape of his neck. And his eyes, oh his eyes, deep pools of emerald green with flecks of gold and silver, framed by dark lashes that fluttered when he would blink. Suddenly he locked eyes with you and you were in awe, the intensity there astounded you. ‘I’ve seen you.’ He spoke quietly, tracing from your ear down your jaw. ‘The way you laugh, the way you smile…happiness may be few and far, but you make the most of it.’ His voice was deep velvet, and the sound sent shivers down your spine. ‘I wanted to approach you…but the coward I am.’ He smiled slightly, you found the corners of your lip lifting in a smile, ‘I think I may be in love with you Y/F/N   Y/L/N.’ He whispered so softly that you didn’t think you’d heard him.

 

‘Why?’ was the response you gave. ‘Why me? I am nobody, I have no considerate dowry, I have no royal status other than what gems and cloth my family supplies the King and Queen.’ He shook his head slightly, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your jaw with his hands,

 

‘I have no care for your money, nor your status; I only care for you…for you are my heart and soul.’ He leaned in ever so slowly,

 

‘I think I may be in love with you…Thomas Hiddleston.’ You whispered, bringing your hand to his neck and the other clenching in his shirt. He lightly pressed his lips to yours, as if in question and responded with renewed vigour when you kissed back. He pressed against you with the passion of a loving man, working his lips over yours and lightly swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. This was not your first kiss, but the feeling of the Princes’ lips and tongue had your knees shaking and mind scrambling. You lightly parted your lips and allowed your tongue to mingle with yours, dancing with each other. He pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around your back, gently laying you upon the lavish bed and savouring you. He pulled away with a smile upon his lips.

 


End file.
